ted a bait. I think a wild
muscadine grape is just the finest fruit of that kind in existence.
When ripe it has a strong and most agreeable fragrance, and when one is
to the leeward of a vine loaded with grapes, and a gentle wind is
blowing from the south, he is first made aware of their proximity by
their grateful odor. I soon found some on this occasion, and they were
simply delicious. Having fully satisfied my craving, I proceeded to
make my way back to the regiment, when hearing the trampling sound of
cavalry, I hurried through the woods to the side of the road, reaching
there just as the head of the column appeared. It was only a small
body, not more than a hundred or so, and there, riding at its head, was
Grant! I had not seen him since the battle of Shiloh and I looked at
him with intense interest. He had on an old "sugar-loaf" hat, with
limp, drooping brim, and his outer coat was the ordinary uniform coat,
with a long cape, of a private in the cavalry. His foot-gear was
cavalry boots, splashed with mud, and the ends of his trousers' legs
were tucked inside the boots. No shoulder-straps were visible, and the
only evidence of rank about him that was perceptible consisted of a
frayed and tarnished gold cord on his hat. He was looking downward as
he rode by, and seemed immersed in thought. As the column passed along,
I asked a soldier near the rear what troops they were, and he answered,
"Co. A, Fourth Illinois Cavalry--Gen. Grant's escort." This was the
last time that I saw Grant during the war.

On the evening of the 20th the regiment was drawn back into Burnsville,
and that night Co. D bivouacked in the "Harrison Hotel," which formerly
had evidently been the principal hotel in the town. It was a rambling,
roomy, old frame building, two stories and a half high, now vacant,
stripped of all furniture, and with a thick layer of dust and dirt on
the floors. We occupied a room on the second floor, that evidently had
been the parlor. Being quartered in a hotel was a novel experience, and
the boys got lots of fun out of it. One would call out, "Bill, ring the
clerk to send up a pitcher of ice water, and to be quick about it;"
while another would say, "And while you're at it, tell him to note a
special order from me for quail on toast for breakfast;" and so on. But
these pleasantries soon subsided, and it was not long before we were
wrapped in slumber. It was a little after midnight, and I was sound
asleep, when I heard s